The Family That Slays, Book 2: Call to Battle
by MadTom
Summary: The Family That Slays Together, my PostChosen followup to Blood of the Night Stalker, continues as the Scooby Gang, now the new Council of Watchers, begin their search for newly activated Slayers.
1. Chapter 1

THE FAMILY THAT SLAYS TOGETHER

BOOK 2: CALL TO BATTLE

by

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(AKA "Mad Tom")

This is a continuation of my post-_Chosen_ followup to my _Buffy/Kolchak: The Night Stalker_ crossover _Blood of the Night Stalker_.

* * *

CHAPTER 1

Although it had originally been considered a "satellite" building by the Old Council, the office that now housed the reorganized Council support staff was still quite spacious, and in refurbishing it, Edward Robson had actually made it more modern than the main building that had been blown up by Caleb the Preacher and the Bringers on behalf of the First Evil. The small new staff of about a dozen employees was on hand in the foyer of the building, as Robson drove the used van into the small parking lot, and his nine passengers disembarked and entered.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Robson smiled to his staff, "you all finally get to meet the remainder of the New Council, minus one member who is busy establishing operations in Cleveland, Ohio. Shall we all meet in the library?"

He led them into a large, bookshelf-lined room with a long hardwood table and enough padded swivel chairs to seat everyone with a few to spare. He took a seat at one end of the table while Giles took the other end; the local staff sat along one side of the table while the other new arrivals sat opposite them.

"By way of introduction," Giles began, "I'm Rupert Giles. I'm the other surviving member of the Old Council besides my old friend Mr. Robson." He gestured next to him. "Next to me are Mr. Carl Kolchak and his wife Joan. Some of you may have heard of Mr. Kolchak and believed until now that he was a fictional character, but he and his exploits are quite real, believe me. For those who haven't heard of him, he's a rather legendary vampire and demon hunter, as well as the author of a large body of work which had been invaluable to the Old Council. He was on their payroll for a time as a consultant, and now with the reorganization, is a full fledged member of the New Council. _Mrs_. Kolchak is a school administrator and teacher with several decades of experience who will be in charge of academics at the Joyce Summers Academy. Mr. Kolchak had been separated from his family for several decades, and it wasn't until a few months ago that we all discovered that his granddaughter was _the_ Slayer. Which brings us to the next two ladies, Miss Buffy Summers and her younger sister, Miss Dawn Summers, the Kolchaks' granddaughters. Buffy was the one and only Chosen One up until the day the Sunnydale Hellmouth collapsed. Although Dawn is now one of the new Slayers, she has a special status, in that although she's a young lady of not quite seventeen, she's had a few years experience functioning as a Watcher. Next are Mr. Xander Harris and Miss Willow Rosenberg. Despite _their_ apparent youth, they are now the most experienced living Watchers other than myself and Robson, with the possible exception of a handful of survivors out there who may not have been able to reestablish contact with us. In addition, Miss Rosenberg is one of the most powerful witches in the world and the person most responsible for empowering the former Potentials and turning them all into active Slayers. And lastly, our two most recently recruited Watchers, Mr. Andrew Wells and Mr. Anthony Vincenzo. Despite _his_ youthful appearance, Mr. Vincenzo comes to us battle-tested; he's a member of the California National Guard and recently served a tour in Afghanistan as a helicopter crewman, and he's about to be promoted from Specialist to Sergeant, if I'm not mistaken."

Tony nodded to confirm this.

Robson gestured toward the other side of the table and began introducing his staff, starting with a couple in their late twenties or early thirties. "This is my brother Elliott and his wife Rose. They have a modest computer networking business, and for now I've put them on the payroll to run _our_ computer network on this end. They're the people with whom Miss Rosenberg and Miss Dawn Summers have been working long distance," he paused and smiled, "to set up Virtual Platform Nine and Three Quarters."

"Oh!" Dawn and Willow both brightened, then extended their hands across the table to shake hands with the couple.

Robson then indicated a lean, white-haired man who was dressed in three-piece tweed despite the summer warmth. "The next gentleman is Mr. Gerald Overton, whom Mr. Giles knows well. He's come out of retirement after six years to become our head of research and head librarian." He moved on to two blond-haired teenagers, a boy about Dawn's age and a girl of about 14 or 15. "Assisting him on a part-time basis are his grandchildren, Gregory Overton Junior and his sister Heather. As Giles knows, their late father, Gregory Senior, was the Watcher of Molly Redmond, whom I believe most of you knew."

All from the California contingent except Tony nodded.

"Molly lived with us once she started training," Heather said with misty eyes. "She became like a sister to us."

"Buffy and I were with her at the end," Xander said solemnly. "I lost my eye in the same fight."

"Neither of us was sure we wanted to follow in Dad's and Grandfather's footsteps as Watchers as we were growing up," Gregory added, "but after both he and Molly were killed, we feel it's a calling."

"And it's appreciated," Giles nodded solemnly. "As you may or may not know, I, too, had a parent and grandparent who were Watchers, and was hesitant about following suit. Your father would be proud of both of you."

Robson continued the introductions, gesturing toward a middle-aged woman with graying brown hair. Next to her was another woman in her early twenties who was obviously her daughter or other close relative, and then there were three other women of various ages next to them. "This is Mrs. Vivian Nicely and her daughter Dolores, Ms. Nancy Bernard, Ms. Marlene Roberts and Ms. Liz Myers. Vivian is the widow and Dolores the daughter of Mr. Jeremy Nicely, who was killed along with his Potential, Charlotte DeVasquez last year. Vivian is now in charge of our Human Resources section, such as it is, and Dolores and the other ladies make up our support staff. All the other ladies are close and trusted friends of the Nicelys." He nodded over to the last person on that side of the table, a tall and distinguished man in his early thirties with short auburn hair, dressed in a stylish summer weight off-white suit. He looked to most of the American contingent be something of a cross between Giles, and Pierce Brosnan playing James Bond.

"My name is Harry Tewksbury," he announced. "I don't actually work _for_ the Council but will be working closely with you, and I'll explain my purpose here presently."

Giles nodded and smiled as he reached over and shook the man's hand. Over the phone, Robson had given him an inkling about Tewksbury's role. Giles, Robson, and the deceased Watchers whose relatives and friends now made up the British component of the Council, were all Field Watchers rather than part of the late Quentin Travers' inner circle, and that was probably going to be a big help.

"I believe the most important purpose of this visit," Robson then continued, "is simply for the British and American contingents of the Council to get to know one another. So I propose to have the British contingent return to their work stations while I take the American contingent and Mr. Tewksbury on a tour." He nodded, and everyone rose.

The elder Mr. Overton and Elliott and Rose Robson started the tour there in the combined library/conference room as the rest of the staff returned to their stations. The shelves that lined the room were filled in a manner that made Giles feel right at home; they had done as he had instructed them over the phone, and had gone to his house and moved his own personal library into the building. In one corner was a computer connected to a large flatbed scanner.

"As most of you are already aware," Rose explained, "there's quite a bit of overlap between Mr. Giles' personal library here and Mr. Kolchak's personal library, which now makes up the library at the Joyce Summers Academy in California. Our priority right now is to scan those books and documents here which you don't have at the Academy, and to EMail them to you as well as save them to our network server. As Willow and Dawn agreed to do the same on your end with those books and documents we don't have here. Eventually we hope to have everything scanned and on both servers as well as on CD-ROMs in a multiply redundant backup system."

Carl took that as his cue and opened his briefcase on the conference table, then pulled out a new and thick leatherbound book. "Excuse me, Mrs. Robson," he smiled. "But since I assume that keeping hard copies is part of that redundancy, I'd like to present this library with a fresh copy of my original, unabridged manuscript of _The Kolchak Papers_. I stress the _unabridged_ part because it includes all the stuff that was edited out of the paperback tie-in to the movies and TV series, which has been out of print since the Seventies anyway."

He handed it over to Mr. Overton. "Why, thank you, Mr. Kolchak," the librarian smiled. "The Old Council's copy was rather battered about, but it was still sorely missed when Rupert took it back to America with him." Overton stepped over to the primary reference shelf and placed the book in a prominent spot in the center, the front cover facing outward.

He gave a more detailed show of the books and other resource materials in the library, after which Edward Robson led the Sunnydale contingent and Tewksbury across the hallway to a smaller room where Mrs. Nicely and her support staff had returned to their desks. There were several filing cabinets along the walls, except for a section of the back wall which was covered with a large-scale map of the world. Over forty small Post-It notes were stuck to the surface, scattered throughout the world.

"We not only have files on the Potentials who made it to Sunnydale and whose information Willow and Dawn were able to exchange with us," Robson said as he gestured toward the cabinets, "but we salvaged whatever files we could from the ruins of the old headquarters, on all the previously identified Potentials and the Field Watchers assigned to them. While we presume that the vast majority of them were killed by the Bringers, we're still holding out hope that a small handful of them managed to evade and survive. And after cross-referencing some of the hits that both Willow and the Westbury Coven got on their respective locator spells, as well as information that the seers in the Coven could glean, it appears that a handful actually did. Unfortunately, they're all in locations that are extremely difficult to get in or out of, presumably for the Bringers as well as ourselves, and also presumably which is why these Slayers and their Watchers have been unable to establish contact with us."

"Three of them," Giles said, "as of the last time we discussed this."

"The number's still holding at three," Robson confirmed. "Two of whom appear to be roaming around in the wilderness. Linda Sotomayor and her Watcher Ethel Randall, who are somewhere in the jungles of Colombia, and Martha Nachukwu and her Watcher Donald Briggs, somewhere in Rwanda."

"One in the middle of Drug Cartel country, the other in the middle of tribal civil war," Carl noted.

"Yes," Robson nodded. "Our third girl is a little more stationary but still just as tricky to reach, if not more so. Samiyah Haddad and her Watcher Hugh Campbell, who are in the village of Rashif, Iraq, which is between Fallujah and Tikrit."

"Right in the middle of Saddam Hussein country!" Tony mused.

"Not exactly the safest place in the world," Robson said dryly, "which of course places them on the back burner, at least for the time being."

"I believe this is where I come in," Tewksbury smiled.

"Yes, perhaps so," Giles nodded.

"Edward," Tewksbury said to Robson, "could I meet with you, Mr. Giles, Miss Buffy Summers and Mr. Kolchak in a more private setting?"

"Of course, Harry," Robson nodded. "We can go upstairs to my office." He turned to Mrs. Nicely. "Vivian, perhaps you can show the rest of the American contingent the rest of the building, and then work with them on coordinating the outreach effort for the remaining new Slayers."

Mrs. Nicely nodded, and then Robson led Tewksbury, Giles, Buffy and Carl up the stairs. His office was definitely professional and businesslike in appearance, and although it wasn't Spartan, it wasn't nearly as opulent as the library: a large metal desk with a wood veneer desktop, and the swiveled armchair behind it was no different from the others used for visitors, comfortable but chrome with cloth upholstery.

"The first thing I want to do," Tewksbury spoke up as they all seated themselves, "is to congratulate everyone on their survival following the practical annihilation of the old Council." He turned to Robson. "Especially you, Edward, considering the seriousness of your injuries!"

Robson smiled over toward Giles. "I have you to thank for that, Old Man. If you hadn't bandaged me up and called for an ambulance. Although I hadn't realized that when I called the Summers home after I regained consciousness, and I do owe you a tremendous apology for that!"

"Quite all right, Edward," Giles managed to grin and chuckle. "As the Yanks say, 'No harm, no foul!' Other than a few minor bruises to my posterior _and_ my ego!" He glanced around and realized that the perpetrators of that incident were all absent: Xander, Dawn and Andrew were all downstairs, and Anya was dead.

"And so, on to my business," Tewksbury said. "Officially, I'm on the payroll of the Ministry of Defence. I'm not allowed to go into any further detail as to the wiring diagram beyond that. Let's just say that I'm the government liaison to the Council."

"Yes," Giles nodded, "I suspected as much. We'd heard rumors that there was such a position, but neither Robson nor I had ever met any of your predecessors. Nor had we ever been officially informed of the existence of such an office."

"There has always been an official representing the Crown assigned to interface with the Council or its forerunners, probably going back to the days of King Arthur and Merlin. But our role changed under the regime of Mr. Travers." There was a subtle underlying sarcasm in Tewksbury's tone.

"To an adversarial one?" Giles asked.

"Nearly so," Tewksbury nodded. "The role of my office used to be one of managing the government funding of the Council and providing government oversight, as well as getting the ear of the Prime Minister and the Cabinet whenever the Slayer or the Council needed intervention from the government. In fact, the vast majority of the Council's funding was from the government until Quentin Travers took over. Since the funding was done mostly through covert payments in Swiss, Grand Cayman and other numbered offshore bank accounts, it was quite easy for Mr. Travers and his inner circle to divert funds intended for the Slayer and Potentials' living expenses and Watchers' salaries to their own uses. So much so that by the time my predecessors became aware of what was happening and told them to cease and desist and to account for their diversions, they simply ignored us. And since these were all covert accounts, we had no means to do a proper audit, and their investments from the diverted funds had become completely self-sustaining. So the government just cut off their funding and nearly completely washed their hands of the matter. By the time I took over the position five years ago, my job had been reduced to that of a watchdog."

"A Watchdog to the Watchers?" Buffy quipped.

"In a manner of speaking," Tewksbury nodded. "My main job was to monitor the activities of the Council from a distance, through a few Council members willing to take me into their confidence." He nodded to Robson. "Edward here being one of them. In fact, Mr. Giles, we considered approaching you, but since you were the Watcher to the active Slayer and were in California most of the time, we figured you had too much on your plate."

"That I did," Giles nodded.

"I should also mention here that the US government also contributed substantial money to the Council after the relationship between our two countries normalized following the War if 1812. They had a liaison to _my_ office rather than directly to the Council, and I understand that this person worked variously out of the US Department of War or Defense and the State Department. When Mr. Travers and his cronies started their shenanigans, the US stopped its funding as well, and their resources and their liaison person were absorbed into the Initiative, with which I believe you're already familiar."

Giles, Buffy and Carl all nodded in concurrence.

"At any rate," Tewksbury continued, "the duty position of myself and my predecessors became a nearly adversarial watchdog position, with the general attitude that the Council, as corrupt and fraudulent as they had been, were still functioning adequately enough to accomplish their mission without our financial support. Had they ceased to function in their intended capacity or had taken any actions which we deemed harmful to the interests of the UK or civilization in general, our job would have been to take whatever action was appropriate and necessary to terminate their organization and organize a new one. Ironically, although they came awfully close to it, Travers and his regime never crossed that line, and The First Evil was the one who did the terminating."

"You mean you guys were getting ready to kill Travers and his regime yourselves," Buffy said, a statement rather than a question.

"That was the most drastic option on a continuum of actions that were on the table," Tewksbury nodded coolly. "All dependent on how far over the line or how far out of control they went. That's all moot now, of course." He smiled before continuing, "And the Prime Minister and the government are most interested in lending their support in your rebuilding and reorganization."

"I couldn't tell you over the phone," Robson said to Giles, "but Harry was quite instrumental in getting the Old Council's assets unfrozen so quickly."

"And we're ready to resume government funding," Tewksbury continued, then turned to Buffy and Carl. "And the Prime Minister is willing to approach your President about having the US government resume its relationship with the Council."

That raised everyone's eyebrows.

"This goes all the way to the top," Buffy gulped. "To your Prime Minister and our President."

"They both know what really happened in Sunnydale," Tewksbury nodded. "That's a large part of why your government has treated it as a natural disaster from the start, rather than a terrorist act. What exactly your current President and past presidents and prime ministers have known about Slayers and the Council over the centuries is not exactly known. But after Travers and the Old Council were blown up, and we determined that Edward and Mr. Giles had survived and were in charge of what was left, we brought the Prime Minister up to speed, and the Prime Minister spoke to your President. And now our government, and very likely _your_ government as well, are ready to resume the support and more amicable relations with the Council as we had before Mr. Travers."

"Sounds good to me!" Buffy smiled.

"Yes, Mr. Tewksbury," Giles nodded.

"Call me Harry, please," he replied. "And shall we make it Rupert?"

"No, just Giles. No 'Mister.'" Giles smiled. "Anyway, Harry, we're certainly grateful for any assistance, but right now our immediate needs are not financial. However, we do have situations with two of our Slayers that perhaps you can still help us with. Perhaps Edward has already briefed you on at least one of the two."

"Your Chinese Slayer in the mental ward," Tewksbury nodded.

"That's one," Giles nodded back.

"Apparently the psychiatrist whose assistance Edward has enlisted is better qualified to solve the immediate problem of her commitment than I am at the moment, but if we require her being released to a British hospital, we can assist with that when the time comes. Miss Chao having no identity at the moment, we can arrange for documents making her a British subject." Tewksbury paused. "And your second problem?"

"Admittedly a much stickier one," Giles said. "I can't quite envision any intervention you can arrange except through the Prime Minister and the President. Our number-two Slayer in seniority after Buffy is an escaped convicted murderer and a hunted fugitive. Fortunately, for the moment, she's out of the jurisdiction of the state where she was convicted and from where she escaped. But I don't know how long she can stay underground."

"Yes, that is rather sticky. I suppose the Prime Minister might get the President's ear and persuade him to grant a pardon, but that does seem like a rather large favor this early in the game."

"I agree," Giles nodded. "But I thought there would be no harm in asking."

"I'll see what I can do," Tewksbury nodded.

The remainder of the meeting was short and full of what Buffy found to be dull discussion on the actual details of the government funding mechanisms. When they adjourned to rejoin the rest of the American contingent and Robson in the administrative office, Dawn and Willow had mildly worried looks on their faces.

"Giles," Dawn spoke up, "we've got another problem. Tracie just called..."

"Is she still at home in New Jersey?" Giles asked.

"Yes," Willow nodded, "and she's met with the new Slayer we said was in Lakeland, New Jersey."

"So what's the problem?"

"It turns out that Lakeland, New Jersey is where the Camden County Youth Center is located," Dawn explained. "That's the fancy name for their juvenile jail. And the new girl's locked up there."

* * *

The general plan was that the Slayers who had survived Sunnydale were to go out in groups of three or more to track down and "recruit" those other new Slayers who were not in Sunnydale when they had been called. However, Tracie Guzman had just turned eighteen, had trained with a Watcher for over four years before his disappearance-- since they were from New Jersey, Giles had dryly commented that he wasn't sure if the disappearance was due to the Bringers or the Sopranos-- and her family lived in Trenton, less than an hour's drive from Lakeland according to Mapquest dot com. So she had managed to convince Giles and Buffy that she could handle finding and recruiting the girl whom Willow and the Westbury Coven had both determined to be in Lakeland, all by herself. There was no need for the other two Slayers on her recruiting team to cut their vacations short.

Both Willow and the Coven had consistently found a stationary "hit" in Lakeland with all their locator spells. The seers in the Coven further gleaned from their visions that the new Slayer's name was probably Iris Honey or Honea or something similar, and that she was living in a huge sky-blue building at the intersection of County House and Woodbury-Turnersville Roads in Lakeland. Mapquest somehow couldn't find that exact intersection, but after following the general directions to Lakeland through stretches of older suburban strip malls, woods and farmland, she found herself on Woodbury-Turnersville Road driving past some older County Government buildings including what appeared to be a hospital. Although she'd passed some residential neighborhoods and apartments or condominiums along the way, this was definitely not a residential street. But shortly past the hospital and a 4-H Club horse ranch, she found the intersection of County House Road and the huge blue building. Not an apartment or condo, but windowless and looking more like a warehouse. But there were a couple of basketball courts toward the rear of the building, and the whole area was surrounded by a chain-link fence over 20 feet high and topped with barbed wire. A plain wooden sign at the driveway showed a rather innocuous name: "Camden County Youth Center."

By the time Tracie parked and went through the front door, there was no mistaking the fact that this was a jail. A uniformed guard behind a bulletproof glass window greeted her in the small anteroom. "Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm here to see an, uh, Iris Honea," she replied.

"Visiting hours start in about a half hour. Please have a seat or come back later."

The half hour gave her enough time to collect her thoughts about the situation. A few other people had gathered in the anteroom by the time the guard announced the start of visiting hours. When she was called to sign in, Tracie quickly decided to enter "personal friend" in the space for "Agency/Purpose of Visit" space rather than "Council of Watchers." After the guard buzzed her in, he asked her to leave her purse with him while a second guard ran a metal detecting wand over her body and then escorted her down a hall to a small room with two chairs and a table and left. A few minutes later, the second guard returned with a short but rather huskily built, round-faced girl of about fifteen or sixteen with medium-light brown hair tied back, wearing what appeared to be the jailhouse uniform of sneakers, gray sweatpants and a blue T-shirt imprinted in white with "CCYC". The husky girl did a doubletake and turned white when she saw who was waiting for her.

"Tracie!" she gasped. "I know you! Your name is Tracie!"

"And you're Iris," Tracie replied. "I know we've never actually met, but..."

"But I've seen you in my dreams! You and a bunch of other girls. In a house. In Sunnydale, California where they had that earthquake."

"Yes," Tracie nodded. "You're one of us. You're a Slayer."

Iris doubled over and burst into tears. "No! I didn't mean to do it! I just wanted him to stop!"

"No, no, no! That's not what I meant!" Tracie said. "Your dreams. Were there vampires and demons and other monsters in your dreams?"

Iris blanched again, hesitating before nodding her head.

"Those are real," Tracie continued. "Vampires and demons are real, and there are a small number of girls in the world who've been given special powers-- superhuman strength, fighting instinct and quick healing-- to slay these demons. There used to be only one girl at a time, but then the one girl who had the power figured out a way to empower all of the potential Slayers, including you."

"Last month," Iris nodded.

"Yes. There was a race of super-vampires that was about to break out of Hell through a Hellmouth portal in Sunnydale and take over the world..."

"Oh, God!" Iris broke down again, crying even more loudly. "That's why it happened! That's why I'm locked up here!"

"What happened?" Tracie frowned.

"I killed my father!"

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**The Camden County Youth Center in Lakeland, New Jersey exists as described and is about a mile from my home. As a school psychologist, I have on occasion had to evaluate inmates there who were from the school district where I work.**

**Any similarities to any real persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. _Yeah, right!_ (Actually, the juxtaposition of a real life incident a few weeks before _Chosen_ aired, involving a teenage girl and and her abusive father, and the brief scene in _Chosen_ where the chubby girl gets her Slayer powers just before she's about to get hit, was impossible to resist!)**


	2. Chapter 2

THE FAMILY THAT SLAYS TOGETHER

BOOK 2: CALL TO BATTLE

by

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(AKA "Mad Tom")

* * *

CHAPTER 2

"Apparently, the father was abusive to Iris, her mother _and_ her little sister," Tracie's voice came over the speaker phone in the admin office after Giles returned her call. "I guess he was what you'd call a 'mean drunk'. The police and DYFS-- that's the Child Protective Services agency here in Jersey-- had been involved in the past but never took the kids out of the home. The day we went into the Hellmouth, the dad started smacking Iris and her sister around. And when Iris got the calling in the middle of it, she hit back. And ended up breaking his neck."

Giles sighed.

"Is this an epidemic?" Tewksbury was obviously forcing himself not to laugh.

"Might be," Dawn replied. "Not counting our cousins, this girl's the first of the previously unknown Slayers we've contacted. Our cousin Colette knocked a baseball out of the park and clear across a parking lot when she got called. No telling what other circumstances these other girls might have been in."

Buffy suddenly felt sickly and sat in the nearest chair. "We... I killed that man!"

"No, Buffy," Willow put a hand on her shoulder. "_I_ killed him! It was my power that activated them."

"But it was _my_ plan," Buffy said. "_My_ scythe that you gave the power boost to."

"Okay, so you _both_ killed him," Tracie's voice sounded impatient. "Actually, you two _and_ Iris killed him. Word from around her neighborhood is that he probably had it coming. It's probably going to be Involuntary Manslaughter and she's claiming self-defense."

Joan and Carl moved closer to their elder granddaughter. "What you did," Joan said as she stroked Buffy's shoulder, "was save the world from the First Evil and those Ubervampires. The tragedy of what happened to this man is well offset by what you did in Sunnydale."

"It was for the greater good," Giles nodded. He cleared his throat and added, "We as the new Council should be able to retain a lawyer for this girl, presuming she has only a public defender at this point."

"She does," Tracie said over the speaker.

"Tracie," Giles said toward the phone, "perhaps you can find a reputable lawyer there in New Jersey. You can give him or her our toll-free number."

"I'll ask my dad," Tracie replied. "He should know someone."

Giles turned to Tewksbury. "Harry, I don't suppose there's anything you could do...?"

"Asking the PM to try to persuade the President of the US to issue a pardon to a convicted murderer is a tall enough order," Tewksbury rolled his eyes. "Asking for intervention in a case that hasn't gone to trial yet..." He smiled wryly. "I'll put it on my 'to do' list."

"Who's that?" Tracie asked.

"One of our new friends in high places," Dawn replied with a little giggle. She noticed the grimaces on Giles' and Tewksbury's faces and added, "And that's all we need to know at this point!"

"Tracie, perhaps you should stay in New Jersey until we do retain an attorney," Giles said. "You and Pamela and Jamie aren't on a fixed schedule anyway, as I recall. That gives each of you more time with your families as well."

"I'll be glad to do that," Tracie replied.

"We'll call the other girls ourselves, and let them know," Giles said. "Do keep us informed."

"Okay, I'll call as soon as there's anything new." She hung up.

There was a long moment's silence in the admin office after Willow reached over and shut off the speaker phone. "Giles," Robson finally spoke up, "as long as you're here in London, have you considered paying a visit to Roger Wyndam-Pryce? Perhaps a face-to-face fence-mending visit."

Giles drew a deep breath, shooting a brief, apprehensive sideways glance at Buffy. "Yes, I've considered it. No, I don't think it would be very productive."

"Well, I know he still blames you and Buffy for ruining his son's career with the Council," Robson said, "but right now, we're the only game in town. And surely he must realize how valuable his experience would be to us if he were to come out of retirement."

"Well," Giles replied, "apart from the grudge he has against Buffy and myself, he was also one of those who blocked Carl's full membership in the Council and limited him to consultant status back in the day. Once he finds out that Buffy is his granddaughter and that I've got both of them here in London with me, and that Carl is now a senior Council member..."

"Surely he can't be that petty."

"You don't know him as well as I do, Robson," Giles sighed. "Plus, the whole issue of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce's failed career as a Watcher has become even more sensitive, in ways I'd rather not discuss right now."

Buffy reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. "Giles, if you're trying to shield me from knowing that Wolfram and Hart took over Angel Investigations... or vice-versa... I already do!"

He raised his eyebrows, then shot a quick glance at Dawn and saw that she was obviously as surprised as he was. "How?"

"I had lunch with Fred Burkle the weekend before we checked out of the Harwood Terrace," Willow told him. "She was the one who answered the phone when you called Wesley."

"Willow," Giles turned pale, "you didn't tell her we were setting up the Slayer Academy in Lake Keogh!"

"No," she replied quickly. "Fred's a good friend, but I didn't know what to make of the situation either. I still don't. I did mention we were all headed for Europe on a working vacation. Didn't even mention about the Slayers all being called, let alone that we were setting up a school for them."

"Hey!" Xander grinned. "Since we now have friends in the business, maybe we can retain Wolfram and Hart to represent this girl Iris!"

"Don't even joke about that, Xander!" Dawn snapped as she saw Buffy lower her head and blink glumly.

"Yes, Xan," Willow added. "Fred told me that the amulet Angel gave Buffy came from Wolfram and Hart."

"You mean the amulet that burned up all the ubervamps and collapsed the Hellmouth," Xander replied, still with a trace of his grin. "So maybe they're not such bad guys after all!"

"The same amulet that killed Spike," Buffy said at a near whisper.

"And would have killed Angel if you'd let him wear it instead of Spike," Willow added. "The law firm could've lured Angel and his gang in to make it easier to get rid of them."

"I still don't know what to think," Buffy said.

"But if Wolfram and Hart are so evil, why did they help us beat The First Evil?" Xander asked.

"Competing forms of evil," Giles said. "Had The First taken over this world, Wolfram and Hart would've lost their power and ability to dominate this dimension. We were convenient for them. As Sun Tzu said, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend!'"

Willow furrowed her eyebrows. "Sun Tzu? I thought it was Mao Zedong who said it."

"The communists, and perhaps your university professors in California, would have everyone believe Mao said it," Tewksbury smiled. "It _is_ Chinese, but several centuries older than Mao."

"_I_ thought it was Arabic," Xander said.

"No," Tony spoke up. "The Arabic philosophy is in direct conflict with that: 'Me against my brother, me and my brother against my cousin, me and my cousin against the Infidels!' When you're trying to form alliances in war, you have to look closely to see which philosophy is more in play with your potential allies and your enemies."

"Gee, just like the Slayer business!" Dawn smiled at him.

"In any case," Giles said, "that's exactly my intention with respect to Angel Investigations and Wolfram and Hart. Keep an eye on them but hands off until we're sure of what we're dealing with."

* * *

"I still wish we could've stayed in Paris with Grandma and Grandpa a little longer!" Buffy said. Dawn was driving along a highway in the foothills of the Italian Alps with herself and Tony, in a rented Mercedes coupe not unlike their own.

"Buffy, we'll get to see more of Paris on the way home," Dawn replied. "And have a little consideration! What couple in their right minds would go on a second honeymoon in Paris and want their granddaughters tagging along being a fifth wheel?"

"We would've stayed out of their way!"

"Hey, you and Giles were the ones who put me and Willow in charge of everyone's itinerary!" Dawn said. "It makes better sense to use Rome as a rendezvous point for everyone. The Westbury and Devon Covens have a sister coven there that can put us up, there are actually two new Slayers here in Italy and none in France. And Rome's a closer jumping off point for the teams that are going to Africa and South Asia."

"Admit it, Dawnie!" Buffy teased. "You just set it up for us to stay in Italy the longest because you're dating a guy named Vincenzo!"

"Hey!" Tony spoke up from the back seat, "I'm sitting right here! And I'm only a quarter Italian!"

"Does that mean you know only every fourth word in the language?" Buffy laughed.

"I think he's demonstrated his mastery of the language since we crossed the border!" Dawn came to his aid.

"You know I'm just playing the role of mean old big sister here, right?" Buffy said, patting Dawn's shoulder. The truth was that she had never stopped being terrified of having to fill their mother's shoes as Dawn's guardian since Joyce's death, and had been grateful that other than the two incidents, with Justin the teen vampire and RJ and the enchanted jacket, Dawn hadn't really dated up to now, and once she'd gotten past her attention-seeking kleptomania phase, had been sensible and level-headed in her social life. She was particularly grateful now that Dawn's first real relationship was with a young man their grandfather knew and trusted. "And you two both did a great job with your German in Austria."

"I'm afraid that's the extent of my linguistic skills," Tony smiled modestly. "An Italian grandfather and three years of German in high school." He turned to Dawn. "After we're done here in Italy, we're dependent on this, uh, special talent of yours."

"That's the plan," Buffy smiled.

"I still can't believe you just studied Italian and German for three months and you're almost as fluent as I am already!" Tony smiled proudly at Dawn. "And you studied a half-dozen other languages at the same time to talk to all these other Slayers who were staying with you who didn't speak English, plus all these ancient languages for research."

"Part of _my_ special and unique Slayery package, apparently," Dawn glanced back over her shoulder and smiled back. "Too bad I had trouble with Cantonese. I might have been able to warn Chao Ahn to watch what she said."

"I don't think anyone could have predicted that she'd get knocked unconscious and that the hospital would have a doctor who spoke Cantonese," Buffy said. "No way you should blame yourself for what happened."

"I know," Dawn nodded. "I could probably converse with her a lot better at this point, but once that deputy warden showed up looking for Faith, there wasn't anything we could do without risking this guy coming after us."

"Well, sometimes we and Law Enforcement can find ourselves on opposite sides," Buffy said. "You've gotta look at Law Enforcement very carefully before you decide whether they're the good guys or the bad guys. The whole Sun Suit 'My enemy's enemy' thing."

"Sun Tzu," Tony corrected. "Speaking of which, you know I still get the vibe that the police and the other people in Klagenfurt weren't telling us everything they knew."

"Tell me about it!" Buffy rolled her eyes. "Maybe I couldn't understand the words, but I got the definite feeling I was watching a conversation with the Sunnydale PD, but dubbed into German!"

"That about sums it!" Dawn nodded.

"That's a red flag that we should eventually go back and do some further digging," Buffy said. "Or send another team back. Eventually."

"I wouldn't mind going back," Dawn replied. "Would you, Tony?"

"The only thing I'd be worried about is that _we_ may have given them a red flag," Tony said. "A bunch of Ugly Americans nosing around in this quaint college town in the Austrian Alps, asking around about a local girl who would have no reason for knowing us, and whose whole family just seems to have up and left town with no forwarding address. We might not be welcome back. I have this feeling if we'd stuck around and pressed the issue, the local cops might have tried to link us to their 'sudden relocation'."

"Boy, you're learning fast, Rookie!" Buffy winked at him.

"Local legend was that Klagenfurt was menaced by a dragon," Tony said thoughtfully. "You don't suppose that could be a sign of another Hellmouth?"

"If it is, it's been a long-dormant one," Dawn said. "Nothing like Sunnydale, or even the Cleveland waterfront. No other classic manifestations that the Old Council would have identified."

"I'm guessing whatever really happened to our girl and her family was a one-shot deal," Buffy nodded. "Possibly related to her being Chosen. The Council will have to eventually revisit this, but probably not the three of us specifically."

"Too bad." Dawn didn't try to hide her disappointment. "I kinda liked the place."

"There's even more to see right here in Italy," Tony said. "I've only been here once, when I was eleven, when I came here with my grandparents, but there's a lot I think you'll like."

* * *

Both sisters did like what they saw, and Tony saw even more than he'd seen and remembered from his last visit. They took a leisurely drive down from the Alps and down the Adriatic coast, stopping over at a couple of small resort towns, figuring that they would cross over the Apennines east of Rome; as their two Italian Slayers lived respectively in Tivoli and near Salerno, they'd get to see enough of the Mediterranean coast later.

After crossing the Apennines and the rest of the leg of the boot of Italy, with Tony at the wheel, they found themselves on the outskirts of Tivoli.

"What do you think, ladies?" Tony said as they passed a sign indicating an upcoming turnoff. "You think we should touch base with this girl Isabella and her family as long as we're passing through?"

"Nah," Buffy replied. "It's getting late and the Coven's expecting us. We need to get ourselves situated and settled in Rome before we establish contact with this girl."

"Makes sense," Tony nodded. "Just thought I'd throw it out as an idea."

"Besides," Dawn added, "it's only 20 kilometers to Rome. It's not like we're going to be backtracking a really big distance."

They were inside the city limits of Rome in a half hour, and within another half hour had found their way down an old and narrow street, where Tony steered the Mercedes into the courtyard of a three-story apartment building, where there were four other cars parked. As they got out, a crowd of about twenty women of varying ages poured out of what appeared to be the main entrance. The apparent leader, a black-haired, full-figured woman in her late thirties or early forties, approached them with open arms. "_Bongiorno! Benvenuti! Benvenuti!_" she smiled broadly as she hugged each of the new arrivals. "I'm Arianna, high priestess of the Coven!"

"Grazie!" Buffy replied. "I'm Buffy Summers. This is my sister Dawn, and this is Tony Vincenzo."

"Vincenzo!" Arianna laughed. "A good Italiano name! I like this already! And I met your friend Willow in Westbury last summer. A most fascinating girl! I hope she's well!"

"Much better than she would have been when you met her," Buffy smiled back.

"Excellent! You're just in time for dinner!"

After introductions to the other women, they learned that although a plurality of them were Italian, it was a rather multinational coven. Most were from other countries in Europe, and there were two Americans: Evelyn, a middle aged woman from Phoenix, and Trudy from Seattle, who was young, blonde, and actually resembled Buffy from a distance.

Evelyn and Trudy were selected to escort the guests to their rooms on the third floor. As they did so, they explained that while they were a large coven-- the philosophy that a coven had to be exactly thirteen members had long been abandoned by their particular sect-- not all of them lived in the building and there were several vacant apartments where the Council members and newly recruited Slayers were welcome to stay as they gathered and awaited return to California. Buffy and Dawn found themselves in a rather comfortable two bedroom apartment with Tony next door, and with a nice view of the Roman hills from the balcony.

"This is nice," Dawn smiled as she enjoyed the view. "I wouldn't mind staying here the rest of the summer, 'til we have to go home for school."

"It _is_ nice," Buffy nodded in agreement, "but remember, Rome is just a part of the whole world, which I promised you we'd see together. And _you_ promised me we'd go back and see more of Paris!"

* * *

They spent the next three days sight-seeing the city itself. Buffy surprised Dawn and Tony by actually attending Mass at the Vatican with them; Dawn noted to herself that the last Mass Buffy had attended was their mother's funeral. None of them brought up the odd and ironic fact that they were coming from a Wiccan coven house to attend Mass at the very seat of power of the Catholic Church.

Afterward, Buffy went to a bank of votive candles near the altar, inserted money in the donation slot, and started lighting several candles, beginning with the bottom row of one section. Dawn reached over for another long matchstick and helped her.

"How many are we lighting?" Tony asked Buffy as he reached for a matchstick.

"Thirty three," Buffy replied softly. "Thirty one for each of the Slayers and Potentials who died in Sunnydale, one for Anya, and one for Spike."

They completed four rows of eight from the bottom up, and then Buffy reached up with her match to light one more at the center of the top row. "I want to set Spike's apart," she explained with a sniffle. "I know Anya died human with a human soul, but Spike's soul was something he struggled and fought for. It wasn't even forced on him like Angel's was. He fought to get it back, for me." Then she whispered, audible only to herself rather than for the benefit of the others, "Rest in peace, Spike. I love you."

The three of them headed for the exit to complete their tour of the Vatican. None of them saw that, as soon as they'd turned their backs to it, the single lit candle in the top row flared up and then extinguished itself, sending a puff of smoke rising toward the ceiling.

* * *

The next morning, it was back to business, and back to Tivoli. The various locator spells by Willow and the network of covens, and information gleaned by their various seers, indicated that the Slayer there was named Isabella Colossi and that she lived with her family on an olive orchard they owned. An internet search of olive growers in the Tivoli area and an entry into Mapquest yielded the map that Dawn now used to navigate the Mercedes along a rural road in the foothills east of town. Since Tivoli was so close to Rome and they'd started right after breakfast, it was still early and the olive orchards and vineyards covering the hills were only now losing their yellowish tint of sunrise.

"I'd swear we were back in California," Buffy mused.

"Took the words right out of my mouth!" Tony nodded. "but then again, a lot of the big wineries back home were started by Italians: Ernest and Julio Gallo, Carlo Rossi..."

"Which begs the question," Dawn giggled. "Did they set up in California because it looks like Italy, or does California wine country look like Italy because they _made_ it look like Ita... Ah! This must be the place!"

They'd been driving a short distance along an old stone fence in front of an orchard, and now came upon a gravel driveway marked with a painted sign, with a wreath of olive branches surrounding the words:

_Frutteti dei Colossi_

Dawn turned the car down the driveway. A one-story farmhouse sat in among the olive trees, back in a few hundred feet and difficult to see from the road, with a few outbuildings behind it. The driveway widened into a parking area, with a late-model Fiat minivan parked by the front door of the house. Dawn parked next to it and the three of them got out. As they approached the front doorway, they noticed the main door open behind the screen door.

"You do the honors, Miss UN Translator!" Buffy said. "No offense, Tony, but I think the bombshell we're about to drop will go over a little better coming from a female, even if her last name doesn't end in a vowel!"

Dawn giggled again, then rapped on the screen door as called out through the screen: "_Bongiorno_!" As she did so, her spider sense kicked in and she saw what was causing it: the main door frame was broken and splintered where the doorknob strike plate had been. "Buffy! The door's been kicked in!"

"This is not good!" Buffy said softly as the three of them backed away from the door. "We have anything for weapons?"

Dawn reached into her purse and grimly pulled out a curve-bladed dagger with a jeweled handle.

"Of course!" Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. It was one of the knives Dawn had taken from and used against the Bringers of the First Evil back in Sunnydale, when the two sisters had rescued their Aunt Polly from them. The only times she never carried it with her was when they flew on airliners.

"There should be a tire iron in the trunk," Tony said. "I'll go get it."

Buffy scanned the front stoop, saw an assortment of farming tools leaning against the wall, and selected a long-handled tool with a hooked blade on the end. "In the right hands, anything can be a weapon."

"Why, Buffy," Tony smiled as he returned with the tire iron, "it's absolutely Biblical! Isaiah says, 'beat your spears into pruning hooks', and Joel says to reverse the process when you have to!"

"Oh, is _that_ what this thing is?" Buffy raised her eyebrows. "It _looks_ the most weapony!" She turned back to the door. "Okay. We'll all go in at once. I'll be first, then Dawn. Tony, you've got our backs."

"Your six," Tony said.

"Huh?" Buffy squinted.

"Your six o'clock. Helicopter crewman, remember? For giving directions to aircrews, you're in the middle of an imaginary clock face. Front is twelve, right is three, six is your back and left is nine."

"Whatever!" Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. She grabbed the handle to the screen door. "Okay, on three. One, two, _three_!"

They burst through the door in succession and found themselves inside a living room that was in a condition Buffy and Dawn had become all too familiar with after their seven years in Sunnydale: a shambles. Most of the furniture had been broken or knocked over. A middle-aged man in pajamas lay dead behind the overturned sofa, his throat cut across nearly to the point of decapitation, blood pooled under him and a shotgun lying across his abdomen. A few feet from him, a figure in a dark brown hooded robe lay spread-eagled on its back, its trunk obliterated by what had obviously been a point-blank shotgun blast. A curve-bladed dagger exactly like Dawn's battle trophy lay near the hand of the robed figure, and its eyelids were unmistakably branded shut with strange hieroglyphics. Beyond them at the end of a hallway leading to the back of the house were three more inert figures: two more in hooded robes, and a teenage girl in a tank top and shorts.

"Oh, sh--!" the Summers sisters and Tony chorused.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Sorry it's been months since I've added to this! As I've said in my notes on my other works, I work for a public school district and February through the end of the school year is the busiest time for me at work. It's taken me a little time to get back in the groove during my summer break and finish this chapter, plus I've also been working on the other books in this series as my muses inspire me. My apologies to those who have been following this story for leaving you hanging this long. I'll do my best to keep the next chapter from being so long in coming! Thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

THE FAMILY THAT SLAYS TOGETHER

BOOK 2: CALL TO BATTLE

by

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(AKA "Mad Tom")

* * *

CHAPTER 3

"So that's what a Bringer looks like," Tony said as he looked at the nearest robed figure with its hieroglyphic eyelids and the nearby knife identical to Dawn's.

"Now you know!" Dawn nodded.

"I thought we were done with these bastards!" Buffy said numbly.

"Obviously not," Tony said.

"Yeah," Dawn said. "We drove The First into remission when we-- when Spike collapsed the Hellmouth, but..."

"...but we'll never destroy it," Buffy finished for her. She shook herself out of her shock. "Check the rest of the house for any survivors. Try not to touch anything and not to leave footprints!"

The three of them trod lightly around the five corpses and the pools and splatters of blood. The teenage girl had multiple stab and slash wounds to her trunk and arms. One of the Bringers near her had what was apparently its own knife sticking out of its chest, and the third Bringer lay on the girl's other side next to a bloody battleaxe, its head twisted to a nearly impossible angle.

"She was obviously our girl," Dawn said. "Took these two with her. Guess the guy with the axe was the one who killed her dad."

They shot a glance into the dining room and saw it was untouched as they walked past it, then stepped down the hallway, where multiple sets of footprints in blood went in both directions. The first door they passed appeared to be the bedroom of a boy, perhaps in his pre-teens or early teens, decorated with soccer equipment and posters; the door was open but the room undisturbed except for the bedding as though the occupant had rushed out of bed in a hurry. The next door, also opened, led to the bedroom of what appeared to be a teenage girl, again undisturbed except for the bedding. Across the hall from it, the last door had been broken and kicked in like the front door. Inside, a middle-aged woman and a boy of about twelve or thirteen lay sprawled in pools of their own blood from multiple stab wounds.

Buffy stepped carefully around the bloody footprints and squatted down to touch the throats of the woman and boy. "Cold," she turned to Dawn and Tony who remained in the hall. "Been dead at least a couple of hours." She drew a deep breath as she stood, then said, "Let's get out of here. Watch where you step."

They stepped carefully as they headed back to the front door, Buffy still carrying the pruning hook. As they exited, she grabbed a second pruning hook from the tools on the front stoop, then continued toward the car.

"Wait!" Tony said. "You tell us to watch where we step and not to touch anything, then you take a couple of their pruning hooks?"

"We're gonna need weapons!" Buffy explained. "We've got to get to that other girl in Salerno before the Bringers do. Actually, I'd rather have taken that battleaxe in there, but I'd hate to take the chance on getting caught with a murder weapon. This is a farm. Nobody's gonna miss a couple of farm tools." She placed the pruning hooks in the trunk after Tony returned the tire iron.

"You think we should call the cops?" Tony asked.

"No!" Buffy and Dawn both said.

"Just asking," he shrugged. "I figure if they ask what we were doing here, I can say I'm a distant cousin who came by to look them up."

"Cousin!" Dawn gasped. "Oh, God! Cyndi and Colette! Buffy, if The First is sending out the Bringers to kill all the new Slayers..."

Buffy gulped. "Oh, God!" She took a couple of deep breaths. "Okay. Tony, you drive! Get us to Salerno the quickest way possible. Dawn, get your computer up. If you can find a Hi-Fi connection..."

"WiFi," Dawn corrected.

"Whatever! If you can find a connection while we're enroute, go online and book a flight for yourself and Tony back to LA. The earliest one possible."

They opened the doors to the car and Dawn scrambled into the back seat where she opened up her iBook and booted it up, while Buffy sat up front. Tony took the wheel and headed it down the driveway.

* * *

There was no way out. There were at least eighteen of the hooded figures encircling her, all of them with eyelids branded shut with strange markings, and all carrying weapons: some with curve-bladed knives, others with long wooden poles of the type Robin Hood and his Merry Men used-- she couldn't remember the term-- and others with ancient-looking double-bladed axes. She knew that there was no "surrendering" to them, that they meant to kill her and nothing else. Her only chance of living through this was to fight, and although she'd had her share of fights in the tomboy phase of her childhood, she'd long since outgrown that. Still, something overcame her: rage, weariness of running in fear, an adrenaline rush, perhaps a combination of all three.

As she lunged toward the nearest figure that had one of the long poles, the entire world seemed to go into slow motion. As the figure swung the pole toward her head, she intercepted it with a firm grasp, swung around and incredibly lifted her attacker off his feet. His momentum and her swing sent him headlong into another one of the robed figures that had been on her other side, and miraculously impaled the first figure on the knife of the second. As the dying attacker let go of his end of the pole, she continued swinging it around and connected with the skull of a third attacker, sending him flying limply backward.

A fourth attacker swung his axe at her and she quickly parried it with the pole, with enough force to knock the axe from his hands and flip it into the air. She managed to catch it by the handle in midair and, to her own disbelief, use the axe to slash the throat of its former owner. Swinging the axe in her right hand and the pole in her left, she managed to slash the throat of one more attacker and break a hole in the cordon they had formed around her, and she began to sprint away from them and back up the street toward the bus station.

She turned her head slightly as she ran and saw she was gaining ground on the remaining attackers, but not by much. As she ran about a block, she saw three more figures dimly lit by the streetlights, ahead and running toward her. She braced herself and positioned the pole and axe for another fight when the three figures-- whom she now saw were dark-clad but not in hooded robes-- spread out across the width of the street. They each dropped to one knee, unslung crossbows from across their backs, and shot them before she was anywhere close enough to do anything with her own two newly obtained weapons.

_I'm dead!_ she thought before realizing that the three people in front of her hadn't aimed at her. The crossbow bolts whizzed past her and she heard the dull thuds of objects striking flesh behind her, followed by some short grunts and gasps. "It's okay! We're friends!" one of the crossbow shooters yelled. It was a woman's voice.

She continued toward the three figures as they reloaded their weapons and fired another volley into the pursuing crowd behind her. She reached them as they dropped their crossbows and drew swords from scabbards behind their backs and charged into the now diminished mob of her attackers. She saw that the three were two young women, both with dark brown hair, and a tall, lean black man with a mustache, goatee and shaved head. She turned back and followed them as each of them ran his or her sword through the abdomen of an attacker, the man killing a knife-wielder and the two women blocking the axes of their opponents with their free hands. That left five of the robed figures still standing, and they were starting to run when the two women caught up to two of them and stabbed them in the backs with their swords. The man then reached down and picked up the knife of the attacker he had just killed and threw it into the back of one of the remaining three runners who had managed to get some distance from them. The two women then took the axes they'd grabbed and threw them squarely into the backs of the last two robed figures.

"I think we got 'em all," the man said.

"Bringers!" the shorter of the two young women sighed. "I thought we were done with these bastards!"

The three of them turned toward the girl, who dropped to her knees and was now shaking and crying, dropping the battleaxe and quarter staff she'd been carrying.

The taller of the women knelt and took the girl in her arms, slipping off the girl's backpack and stroking her back. "It's okay. You're safe now. You're among friends."

The girl sobbed loudly and continued to shake for several seconds before calming down enough to pull back and study their faces. "I... I know you!" she whispered. "All of you! I've seen you in my dreams. In... in Sunnydale, California where they had the earthquake!"

"Yeah," the taller woman nodded as she helped her stand. "I'm Faith..." she indicated the shorter young woman, "this is Kennedy..." then indicated the man, "... and this is Robin."

"How did you find me here?"

"We work with a network of Wiccan covens in Europe," Faith explained. "A few of the members are seers. It's the middle of the night over there, but one of the seers in Devon, England woke up from a dream and called us about half an hour ago. Said a new Slayer was here in Cleveland and that she was going to be attacked on this street tonight."

"You were damned lucky on two counts," Robin said. "One, that the seer had the dream about you at all, and two, that we live here in Cleveland and could do something about it."

"Yeah," the girl smiled. "Thanks. I'm Leslie. Leslie Mac--"

"Leslie MacKenzie?" Faith's eyebrows raised. "From Knutsford, Ontario?"

"Yes!" she gasped. "My gosh! How did you know?"

"The covens identified you as a Slayer pretty early on by using locator spells," Kennedy replied. "I was about to pay you a visit in Knutsford a week ago, but then you started moving around on us!"

"A bunch of these guys were about to attack me back home," Leslie nodded toward the dead Bringers, "so I ran from them. Something I remembered from my dreams told me to head for Sunnydale, or what's left of it, and to stop here in Cleveland on the way." She paused and squinted. "A Slayer. That's a word I remember from my dreams." She looked at her rescuers. "What's a Slayer, and why do these people want to kill me?"

Faith picked up Leslie's backpack, and the girl shuddered again as she noticed the deep slash that ran diagonally across it.

They started up the street, and then Robin nodded toward the white Pontiac parked just around the next corner. "Come home with us and we'll tell you everything."

"In every generation," Faith began, "there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer." She smiled at Leslie. "Or at least that's how it all started..."

* * *

"Watcher's Council," the voice answered.

"Hi, Mrs. Nicely, it's Buffy," she said into her cell phone. "This is an emergency! I need to talk to Giles immediately!"

They were still on the back road, headed for the freeway that went toward Salerno.

"Just a moment, Buffy," Mrs. Nicely said. "Seems like there's emergencies popping up everywhere. He and Edward have been on the phones all morning since before the support staff showed up, and Harry Tewksbury just showed up about twenty minutes ago."

"What kind of emer--" Buffy started before she heard the phone being put on hold. Fortunately, it lasted only a couple of seconds, not long enough for her to get agitated.

"Buffy!" Giles said breathlessly. "Vivian just said you have an emergency. What's happening? Where are you?"

"Giles, we just left the olive farm in Tivoli that belongs to Isabella Colossi's family. The whole family's been killed by Bringers, including Isabella. Looks like The First is still active."

"Yes. Robin Wood called me at home about an hour and a half ago. They'd gotten a call from Bridget in Devon. She'd had a vision that a new Slayer had arrived in Cleveland and that she was about to be attacked, but she didn't know by what. Robin, Faith and Kennedy found her just as she was being attacked by eighteen Bringers. Fortunately she's all right and between the four of them, they were able to kill them all. The girl turned out to be Leslie, the one from Ontario, Canada."

"Well, our girl here in Tivoli wasn't so lucky," Buffy sighed.

"Tell Giles I think the same thing may have happened to the girl in Austria," Tony spoke up.

"Tell Tony I heard him," Giles replied.

"He heard you," Buffy nodded.

"Anyway," Giles continued, "I called Robson and Harry immediately to meet me here at the office. Then I called Cleveland back to get more details, trying to determine if this was an isolated occurrence because of the Hellmouth there. Then about half an hour ago, Willow called. She, Xander and Andrew found our South African Slayer dead in her home near Pretoria. With three dead Bringers."

"At least some of these girls are taking some of the Bringers with them," Buffy said grimly. "It looks like Isabella and her dad took three of them with them."

"That's not a good trade," Giles said.

"I know," Buffy said. "Anyway, we're on the road to Salerno to try to get to the other Italian girl before the Bringers do. I don't know if we're following the same band of Bringers around Europe or if The First is converting Bringers locally."

"We never found that out when they were killing the Potentials," Giles said. "It doesn't matter much. In retrospect it was rather stupid of us to assume that all these Bringers were neutralized and roaming around blind just because we closed down the Sunnydale Hellmouth." He sounded quite disgusted with himself.

"Giles, as soon as we find this girl Rosanna in Salerno, I'm sending Dawn and Tony back to LA to make sure our cousins are safe. I'll stay on in Rome and try to get things organized. We'll use the coven house as a gathering point like we planned."

"I may join you there, depending on the situation," Giles said. "In the meantime, now that we've established that this is a worldwide problem, I'm going to call everyone and warn them as to what's going on. Now that most of the Slayers who were with us in Sunnydale are by themselves and visiting their families, The First may start picking them off as well as the ones we're trying to recruit. We should speed up our schedule in assembling the teams and rounding up the newly identified Slayers."

"Okay, you do that. I'm gonna call my Aunt Polly and my cousins right now. I only hope to God it's not too late!"

Buffy hung up and then dialed the international prefix and the McDades' number. After a few seconds of faint connection tones, she got a ringing signal. "Good, it's ringing," she breathed. "At least the Bringers haven't cut the lines, I think. Come on, Aunt Polly... Uncle Matt... Cyndi... anybody?" Her heart sank as she closed the cell phone. "Dammit! Eight rings and no answer!"

"They could just all not be home," Dawn said hopefully as she looked up from her iBook.

"They don't even have an answering machine!" Buffy said. "Don't they know this is the Twenty-first Century?"

"They've got E-Mail," Dawn shrugged. "Only I can't find a WiFi connection."

"Unfortunately, the Italian WiFi system is a little bit behind their cell phone system," Tony said. "They're planning on eventually making the whole freeway system a subscriber WiFi zone, but that's a couple of years down the road."

"Dawn," Buffy said, "get a message ready. Tell them exactly what's happening, don't hold anything back. Tell them to get ready for an attack. As soon as you get a connection, send it."

"Okay," Dawn nodded, then added sarcastically, "Aunt Polly's gonna love this!" She opened the E-Mail application and started typing.

"I know," Buffy nodded. "You and Willow did everyone's itinerary. Are any of our girls still in Southern California?"

"Not unless you count Chao Ahn," Dawn shook her head.

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes, then asked, "Isn't Caridad from Riverside?"

"Yeah, but she's hanging out with Colleen and her folks in Montana. The cabin fever and claustrophobia in Sunnydale got to everybody. I think the nearest of our girls to Aunt Polly's is Denise in Oregon."

"Do your cousins have anything to fight with?" Tony asked.

"I seem to remember Uncle Matt owns a handgun," Dawn said. "Colette and Eric are both on baseball teams, so they've probably got some bats, and Cyndi plays tennis, so she's got a racket."

"Not much, except for the handgun," Tony said. "At least the late Signore Colossi showed us that firearms will work against Bringers."

"Well, don't underestimate a baseball bat in Colette's hands!" Dawn managed a smile. "And hopefully, their fighting instincts as Slayers will kick in."

"Hopefully," Buffy repeated. After a few seconds' silence, she said, "Tony, you were right. We should've touched base with Isabella when we passed Tivoli on the way in to Rome last week. She and her family would still be alive if we had."

"You couldn't have known that!" Tony answered. "None of us could've!"

"This is all my fault," Buffy shook her head. "All of it! If we hadn't activated all the Potentials, all these girls would still be unidentified Potentials. Willow's spell turned on a beacon in each of them saying to The First and the Bringers, 'Hey! Come and kill me!'"

"No," Dawn sighed, "Willow's spell allowed us to kill all the Turok-Hans, close the Sunnydale Hellmouth and save the world!"

"Spike did that with the amulet," Buffy shook her head. "We just stirred up the hornet's nest and swatted a few hornets."

"Buffy, don't beat yourself up over this!" Dawn said.

"Dawn, you helped Willow and Giles come up with the activation spell. Could we reverse it?"

"And do what?" Dawn didn't try to hide her exasperation. "Leave all these girls still identified to the Bringers with no strength or skills to defend themselves? There's no turning back!"

"Buffy," Tony said gently, "this is a war. Just like the war I was in up until a couple of months ago. In a war, you make decisions with the best information you have. If you make mistakes-- and I don't think you really have-- you learn from them and continue the mission. Or move on to the next mission. Don't waste your time and your emotional energy on 'What if?'!"

"Okay," Buffy managed a smile. "Out of the mouths of rookies!"

"Rookie my ass!" Tony glowered at her. "Different kind of war, same basic principles!"

* * *

The main highway from Rome to Naples was named _Autostrada del Sole_-- Sunshine Freeway-- but while it had indeed been warm and sunny when they got on from Tivoli, a cold front had moved in from the Mediterranean by the time they reached Naples, bringing steady rain and dark skies despite the noon hour. As Tony turned the car onto the ramp for the highway to Salerno, there were flashes of lightning adding to their sense of foreboding, which had already been exacerbated by Buffy's redialing the McDades' number every twenty minutes or so throughout the drive with no answer, plus Dawn's frustration at her lack of success at finding a WiFi hot spot. Had it been a normal tourist trip, they would have marveled at the sight of Mount Vesuvius as they drove right past it, and probably would have stopped. As it was, the event got only a cursory comment from Tony and absent nods from the two sisters.

The information gathered on the new Slayer they sought was that her name was Rosanna Scaperotto and that she lived in a resort town on Salerno Bay named Cancello del Mare, a few miles past the city of Salerno proper. They had no problem following the Mapquest directions from the freeway to the address the seers and locator spells had determined, and ended up in front of a three-story quadrangle apartment building reminiscent of the Coven house where they were staying in Rome, although somewhat newer.

It was still raining, darkly overcast and thunderous as they got out of the Mercedes, popped the trunk and retrieved the two pruning hooks, Buffy and Tony each taking one while Dawn took the tire iron and drew her knife. It was a rather conspicuous and impossible to conceal display of odd weaponry, but fortunately, the rains had emptied the street of people. Buffy took the lead as they stepped into the main vestibule, looked at the names on the mailboxes and found "R. Scaperotto" on what appeared to be a second floor number. They were just past halfway up the first flight of stairs when they started hearing the all too familiar sounds of grunts, thuds, and the crashes of furniture falling over somewhere above them.

"Oh, God!" Buffy gasped as they sprinted the rest of the way up the flight, followed the noise around a corner of the second floor hallway, then ran toward the only open door just as they heard glass shattering followed by the rapid succession of a half dozen or more distant heavy thuds.

Buffy led them through the door, which had been kicked in like the farmhouse in Tivoli, and they found the living room of the apartment in a similar shambles. But this time, the only bodies inside were the ones in hooded robes: three of them, all newly dead of knife wounds. One held a double-bladed battleaxe, but both blades were clean. Past the dining area in the back, a sliding glass door that led onto a small balcony had been smashed outward. The three of them rushed across, through the disintegrated door pane and onto the balcony, in time to see three of the Bringers disappear under an archway in a far corner of the courtyard below. Another dead Bringer lay on top of broken glass directly below them.

"She's still alive!" Buffy breathed. "Let's go!"

* * *

The young woman passed through the archway and into the alley between her own apartment building and the next. She turned toward the street and had gone a few feet when she saw that four more of the hooded figures had gone through another archway and headed her off. The other three that had followed her through the other archway were even closer.

She still held the larger portion of a quarter-staff she'd wrested from one of them; it had snapped in two when she used it to break her fall when she leaped from her balcony. In desperation, she hurled it at her nearest pursuer, and didn't wait to see it impale her target in the chest. Instead, she leaped up and grabbed the bottom of the railing to the balcony of the nearest second floor apartment. As her pursuers arrived below her, she pulled herself up out of their reach, climbed to the top of the railing and reached for the railing to the third floor balcony. The still-steady rains made both her footing and her grasp difficult, while her attackers were working in concert, two of them boosting the others up from ground level. She'd managed to pull herself up clear of the second floor balcony as two of the hooded figures pulled themselves over its railing.

She then stood on the third floor railing, leaped and grabbed the edge of the roof with both hands. She started to pull herself up when a hand reached down from the roof, grabbed her right wrist and started pulling her up. In desperation, she raked the fingernails of her left hand deeply into the forearm of the person grabbing her.

"Ow! Sonofabitch!" a man's voice yelled as the hand let her go. She dropped and grabbed the rain gutter, but it quickly broke free from the roof due to her weight and she dropped back to the balcony, cold rainwater from the gutter drenching her already wet clothes.

She turned and looked downward to see two more pairs of hands grabbing the bottom of the balcony railing, then saw the tops of two hooded heads slowly rising. She turned back to the roof to see the head and shoulders of a young man with short dark hair as he extended both his hands down toward her.

"_Venuto con me se desiderate vivere!_" he said calmly and firmly. It was the same man whose arm she'd scratched, but now his voice was deeper and had a strange, affectatious accent. But she had no time to think about it. She jumped up with her hands outstretched, and as his hands caught her right forearm, a second pair of hands caught her left and she felt herself being pulled up onto the roof.

As she scrambled the rest of the way, she saw that her other rescuer was a teenage girl with long dark hair, and next to her was a blonde woman in her early twenties. They looked enough alike to be sisters, but she already knew that from something in the recesses of her recent strange dreams.

"_Mille grazie!_" she said as she caught her breath, then rose to her feet along with them as they attended to the activities below them.

Buffy held the battleaxe she'd taken from the dead Bringer in the apartment, while Tony picked up one of the pruning hooks. Dawn picked up the other pruning hook and handed it to the Italian girl, then drew her knife and picked up the tire iron.

The six Bringers scrambled up onto the roof simultaneously from three different points: the balcony from which the Italian girl had climbed, the balcony of the apartment next door, and another balcony from the courtyard side.

"Hi, guys!" Buffy said with a wicked grin as she stepped over to the two nearest Bringers, then summarily decapitated both with two strokes of the battleaxe as they pulled themselves up. She glanced over to check on her sister, who had calmly stepped over to the other two Bringers who were coming up on the alley side and smoothly smashed the tire iron into the face of one Bringer and plunged her knife into the back of the other and withdrew it. All four bodies slid off the roof with the two decapitated heads rolling along with them. A second later, they heard the thuds of the six objects hitting the cobblestones in the alley at the same rhythm.

They then rushed over to the courtyard side where Tony and the Italian girl faced off against the remaining two Bringers, who had managed to make it on their feet and were going for their knives. Both Tony and the girl unhesitatingly swung their pruning hooks at them, the girl's blade connecting with the trunk of her opponent and Tony hitting his opponent's throat. The two Bringers fell back into the courtyard with emphatic thuds.

"Hey, my physics prof was right!" Buffy smiled. "Objects really do fall at the same rate regardless of mass!"

"Did we get 'em all?" Tony asked

"Yeah," Dawn nodded. "We counted seven in the alley, she got one down there, we got six up here."

"'Beat your plowshares into swords, and your pruning hooks into spears; let the weak man say, "I am a warrior"'" Tony smiled at his weapon, then turned to the two sisters. "Sorry! Can't help it. Twelve years of parochial school!"

Dawn turned to the Italian girl and smiled. "_Bongiorno! Presumiamo che siete Rosanna Scaperotto!_"

"Yes," she smiled back. "I'm Rosanna. And I speak English. I studied it for six years. In the summer, I work as a concierge at the Hotel Merenda here in Cancello del Mare. Lots of American and British tourists."

"Oh, good!" Buffy smiled. "Hi, Rosanna. My name is Buf--"

"I know who you are!" she nodded. "I've had dreams about you the last few weeks. You are Buffy Summers, the Chosen One! And you are her sister, Dawn Summers." She turned to Tony. "You, I don't know. But I'm sorry I scratched your arm!"

"It's okay. I'm Tony Vincenzo."

"Boy!" Buffy sighed. "_I_ had the dreams when I was first called. And this Slayer dream stuff _still_ creeps me out!"

"But how is it that you're still alive if _I_ am now the Chosen One?" Rosanna looked at her.

"Good question!" Buffy replied. "Let's get in out of the rain and we'll explain it to you."

They walked along the roof toward Rosanna's apartment.

"You okay?" Dawn asked Tony as she held his hand. "This is your first killing up close and personal."

"Yeah," he nodded. "They say killing a man while you're looking into his eyes is way different from long-range combat. Unfortunately, I'll never get to test that theory with this bunch." He laughed.

"Oh, yeah," Dawn looked at him and giggled. "_Venuto con me se desiderate vivere!_ I can't believe you actually said that!"

"And I actually managed to throw in an Austrian accent!" he smirked.

Buffy looked at them "Oh, yeah! What's 'Menudo con me--' what he said?"

"Come with me if you want to live!" Dawn, Tony and Rosanna all chorused.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**All Italian and other foreign language phrases in my works are courtesy of Babelfish and Altavista, and I apologize for their inaccuracies if any.**

**Tony's Biblical quote is from Joel 4:10 in the Catholic Bible or Joel 3:10 in the Protestant Bibles (the discrepancies being in the way the chapters were numbered).**

**Please keep the reviews coming. I'm going to try and get _at least _one more chapter in before I go back to work in September.**


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